Repo
by Valak
Summary: It wasn't a kill shot, it wasn't a warning, it was repossession and Scorpia is not a forgiving lender. It's time for Alex Rider to pay his debts or risk losing everything he has. Set Post-Scorpia.


**Repo**

**Based off a thought that occurred to me while I was studying for the LSAT. No promises on updates for Veracity, at least not until the test is over. Just a one shot based on an idea; don't get too critical I wasn't going for a masterpiece here by any stretch of the imagination. Enjoy your summer and please review so I can enjoy mine!**

**It wasn't a kill shot, it wasn't a warning, it was repossession and Scorpia is not a forgiving lender. It's time for Alex Rider to pay his debts or risk losing everything he has. Set Post-Scorpia.**

**St. Dominic's Hospital, 2:58 PM**

The exchange took place seamlessly at the switching of the swing shift. Few noticed a wheel chair containing a sleeping teen being taken discretely from the building to a shiny black sedan. His disappearance wouldn't be missed until nearly an hour later when checkups began. By then Alex Rider would be tucked safely away on a private jet bound for Venice.

**Unknown, 9:23 PM **

It was the nagging feeling that something was inherently wrong that pulled Alex from his medication induced slumber. He woke suddenly, almost toppling the chair he was secured to in his rush to respond. He groaned and slumped back into the ropes, testosterone and medication did little to dull the pain of the still healing bullet wound. Blinking back tears he surveyed the room, a single bulb illuminated very little in the darkened room. He could vaguely make out concrete block walls along with the outlines of what appeared to be a door in front of him.

Standard kidnapping fare, then. He could deal with that, what he could not deal with was the question of who precisely had kidnapped him and how they had gotten to him in one of the most secured hospitals in Britain. The how was almost too predictable, one of his old enemies had come after him, the Triads, or maybe even an old friend of Cray's.

The door opened on well oiled hinges, interrupting his train of thought. Obviously, whoever was responsible was not new at the game. That narrowed things down a bit. Alex closed his eyes against the harsh light, opening them when the tell tale buzz of a lock engaged.

"Good evening, Alex." A deep Australian accent echoed in the words. The boy remained silent, memorizing every detailed of the tan, grizzled face. "Quiet today, I see. Hmmm…it's to be expected with the recent…events you've been through."

"Who are you?" the boy relented.

"Ah, my bad, the name's Brendan Chase, though you may know me better as a board member of Scorpia…" the man trailed off.

Alex's eyes widened marginally as he realized the implications, he was going to die and this time there was no MI6 or stroke of luck to save him. "I see you remember us."

"Hard to forget with the parting gift you gave me."

"Oh that was no parting gift, Alex; we put too many resources, too much information, too much _time_ into you. And now we're here to get all of that back, one way or another."

"You want me back?" he stuttered, "What about Julia Rothman? Invisible Sword?"

"Failures, things we can…overlook given the right benefit. You see, Alex, Scorpia is about adaptation, to the world, ourselves, and the unique…talents brought in. Julia forgot that." the bitter tone was hard to miss, obviously Rothman was not popular amongst the board members "You, however, you are one of those talents, one who owes us a great debt for the training and resources given to you at Malagosto."

The man turned back to face the restrained spy. "You can choose to repay that debt with your service or your life. Either way we are taking back what is ours."

"I am _not_ your property." The boy hissed.

"Aren't you, though, Alex? Think about it, we've spent more money and resources on you than MI6; I daresay you spent more time training with us than you _ever_ did with your…previous employers."

The boy sat in silence for a few minutes, unable to refute the man's claims, sure he was given gear to support his missions with MI6 but never enough trust, information, or training to bind him to the organization. No, Alex made a good spy _now_ but MI6 always left the option open to throw him and all of the dirty secrets that came with him away at a moment's notice. Then again he never had been in it for MI6, certainly not for the money; he worked with MI6 out of responsibility and, of course, blackmail.

The man smirked at his silence "Well then, Mr. Rider have you made a decision?"

The boy glanced up at him, "My choices are working for you or dying?" the boy queried.

The man let out a hearty chuckle. "Dying? Feeling overdramatic aren't we, Alex? No, you'll be working for us either way, it's just a matter of how much….force we have to use."

"You said…" the boy began but was swiftly interrupted by the man.

"I said 'your life'; meaning your friends, your home, even your Guardian, Ms. Starbright, all the things that matter. _They_ would be the ones to suffer the consequences for _your_ actions." The man stepped back from Alex's face, "Then again, that's nothing _unusual _is it, Alex?"

A pregnant pause filled the room until the man finally spoke again "It's your call on how you want this to play out. The snipers are in place, all you have to do is say the word."

Alex gritted his teeth and, seeing no other option, hissed out his response, "Fine."

"Good" the man said ruffling the boy's hair as he made to leave. "Your trainer should be in here in a few minutes to escort you to your barracks."

"Trainer?" he queried.

"Ah, yes, you're not exactly in fighting form. He'll be helping you…readjust to life on Malagosto and will supervise you on your missions. Not exactly our traditional approach but, then again, you are a very unique case."

He tensed at the man's words and hissed in pain at the movement of his muscles.

The man chuckled "Don't worry, Alex, I believe the two of you are….acquainted. It should be an easy transition for you," at that the door slammed and audibly locked.

Alex bowed his head, careful not to move his torso and risk pulling at the still healing wound. He felt drained and defeated but he knew this was just the beginning. He had signed his life away to Scorpia and they were never going to let him go, they had too much leverage between Tom and Jack… He shook his head, gritting his teeth at the pull of the stitches, now was not the time to be thinking of that. He needed to figure out who his "Trainer" was going to be, it had to be someone in Scorpia.

He ran through a mental list of his enemies, Yassen was dead as was Rothman, it couldn't be anyone who he trained with at Malagosto, they would be going through their Trials now, it could be one of the instructors here but the man had said they would be going on missions and as far as he knew the professors never left Malagosto. His mind hit a blank. Other than that, there really was no one he knew.

The lock clicked again and once more bright light spilled into the room; Alex closed his eyes against the intrusion but hurriedly opened them again when he heard a familiar voice call out.

"Cub?"

Fuck.

**Please review. If you want me to continue it then please ask me in the review. Also, all pointers are appreciated for further story encouragement and quality.**

**Side note with the K Unit reference at the end, I'm assuming that not all of them made into the SAS, since most don't. What, then, is to stop them from switching sides, with the right benefits of course? No disrespect to the British Armed services but not everyone goes into any military for the honor of serving their country. Just a thought that I wanted to explore at the end!**

**Please review!**


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